


Into The Heart Of Me

by icylangdon



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: 1984
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Addiction, American Horror Story - Freeform, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Backstory, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Drug Addiction, Drugs, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Headcanon, One Night Stands, Partying, Prequel, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Strangers to Lovers, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icylangdon/pseuds/icylangdon
Summary: los angeles, 1982; you’re sure there’s nobody in the world who’s as much of a train wreck as you are. that is, until you meet xavier plympton.
Relationships: Xavier Plympton & Reader, Xavier Plympton & You, Xavier Plympton/Reader, Xavier Plympton/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Into The Heart Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr   
> this is most likely going to be a multi part series !!

1982 

The dark nightclub smelled of cheap perfume, liquor, and a strange combination of smoky skunk and cigarettes, a nauseating mixture that you’d sought to escape in the cramped three-stall bathroom (but to no avail, of course). Your best friend stood next to you, clad in a skin-tight bubblegum pink minidress, while you stood beside her like a shadow, decked all in black spandex.  
She fluffed her crimped hair with manicured fingers, turning to one side to inspect herself in the cracked mirror as she retrieved a small contacts case from her colorful cross-body. All the stalls were occupied, much to your dismay; you were fairly certain there was a couple making out in one, while the other two were filled by unfortunate lightweights, throwing up their lungs and then some into the dirtied porcelain. You’d just hold your piss til you got home, you decided. At least then you wouldn’t be at risk of contracting something.  
“I think I’m gonna let that guy from earlier take me home,” your friend said, scooping up some white powder from the case with her gleaming red pinky nail and bringing it to her nostril. “He looks rich.”  
“What, is he gonna pay you to fuck him or something?” you shouted back, attempting to be heard over the thumping bass that had traveled under the door, accepting the case from your friend once she was finished with her bump. “Well, no,” she mumbled, wiping away the excess blow from her nose with the back of her hand. “But I’d be an idiot to turn him down if he offers.”  
You rolled your eyes, gathering a little bit of powder in the case’s lid and avoiding your reflection in the filthy mirror across from you. “I can’t believe it. My best friend is a hooker.”  
She shoved you playfully, and it took her a few more seconds than normal to recuperate, stumbling in her platform heels before steadying herself on the edge of the sink. “At least I didn’t travel the world in a shitty, cramped tour bus just to fuck a bunch of pervy old rock stars when I was barely out of high school.”  
“Oh, please. I didn’t fuck them.” You paused to inhale the small amount of the powdered substance (which you’d sworn you were going to cut back on just that morning, but then again you said that every day), speaking in a significantly lower tone when you finally spoke again. “I just sucked their dicks.”  
So you’d been a groupie a few years back when you were eighteen. So what? You’d been kicked out of the house in 1976, just shortly after your high school graduation, when your parents had found the stash of weed and coke hidden in your closet; essentially homeless, you’d had nothing better to do than to join some girls in your class who’d set out on following bands around the world. Sure, it’d been stupid, but it’d been fun.  
God, you missed the 70’s.  
Things had slowly begun fading from rock n’ roll to disco, which was fun to dance to, but wasn’t quite your style. Instead of dimly lit bars, you now frequented nightclubs, the electronic music and flashing lights subduing your senses. Bright colors clouded your vision instead of the more warm, calm earth tones that’d been popular in the previous decade; everything in the 80’s was just so flashy.  
Even though the times were changing, you were fairly certain you hadn’t changed one bit since 1976- sure, you were no longer leading a taboo groupie lifestyle, but you still were up to no good; spending your days working at a grocery store in the shittiest part of town, you were just barely able to pay rent for your tiny, roach-infested apartment, which you shared with your best friend. The little bit of leftover money from each paycheck would go towards fast food, coke, and booze, your nights spent with your friends partying and picking up guys. You were lost, meandering aimlessly through life like a ghost, but you were too fucked up half the time to care.  
“C’mon, let’s go. I love this song,” your friend said, snatching her coke compartment from your hands and shoving it back into her cross-body. You took a fleeting glimpse at your reflection, just long enough to be sure there were no remnants of white powder on your nose, before allowing your friend to drag you out of the bathroom and into the sweaty crowd of Los Angeles’ finest.  
You felt a sudden fluttery numbness invade your skull, and all at once you were brought from boredom to buzzing excitement, the synthesized melody that blared through the speakers igniting a desire within you to dance. Oh, right. This is why I do coke so much, you thought, attempting to sway your hips to the beat whilst making your way through the crowd with your friend. She lifted a bangle-adorned arm to wave at the man she’d met earlier- a lean, dark-haired guy with a bushy mustache, who was waiting by the bar just as he’d promised your friend before the two of you ran off to the bathroom to “powder your noses”.  
“Will you be able to get a ride home?” your friend asked with wide eyes, and although you appreciated the sentiment, you knew it was likely she’d leave you there whether or not you said yes. It wasn’t that she was a bad friend, it was just… well, yeah. Sometimes she was a bad friend; there were times you could swear she liked drugs and one night stands better than she liked you.  
“Yeah, I’m sure I will,” you said, scanning the crowd for a potential hookup that could get you home. Most of the men these days looked more or less the same, and they all fucked the same, too; most of the time you’d be unsatisfied after sex, but to you, the feeling of having a warm dick inside you for a few minutes was better than feeling nothing at all.  
You lingered behind as your friend ran off to meet her flavor of the night, deciding to give her some space and dance on your own instead. Your dancing was admittedly a little off-kilter, what with the many drinks you already had on your belt, but that didn’t stop you from doing it anyway; you had no idea how long you’d been dancing for when you heard a man’s voice, gravelly with liquor, shout from behind you.  
“You better cough up that money or you’re gonna regret it,” the voice said, and you turned around to see what all the commotion was about. “I’ll put you in the fucking ground.”  
Oh, lord. The guy screaming was one you recognized: a well-known drug dealer in the area who you’d bought some ecstasy tablets from a couple times before. Next to him was a handsome, lean bleach-blond man with well-styled hair and a clean-shaven face; he had one silver earring and wore a pastel-colored shirt that cut off just above his belly button, and he looked just about ready to ruin the white jeans that clung so effortlessly to each curved muscle of his thighs.  
“Look, man, I didn’t stiff you, I swear! I must’ve dropped the 60 dollars somewhere, man,” stammered white-jeans-dude, a thin bead of sweat traveling from his smooth forehead to his razor sharp jaw. “I’ll look around for it, I’m sure it’s somewhere-“  
“-And let you sneak off without paying me? Do you think I’m fucking brain dead?” The drug dealer had taken a good grip of the blonde’s candy-colored shirt, exposing even more of his smooth torso as he yanked him upwards to meet his searing gaze. “You got a lot of nerve, pretty boy. Too bad you won’t look so pretty after I get done with you.”  
White-jeans-dude threw up two hands with wide, dilated eyes, “Look, dude, let’s talk this out-“  
“Get him!” the man screamed to someone you couldn’t place, veins in his neck bulging.  
Oh shit. Two men, clad in black leather, lunged forward from the shadowed mass of people and gripped the blonde’s slender arms so abruptly that he fell back into their burly chests. Your eyes moved to scan the surrounding crowd- some people were staring, but nobody seemed to be doing anything. Were you really going to stand by and let this guy get his ass kicked by three (or possibly even more) thugs twice his size? You’d heard horror stories from your friends, the majority of which associated with unsavory crowds- if these guys got the blonde man alone, he was about as good as dead.  
Thinking quickly, you opened your purse and fished out your wallet, which contained several 20’s that you’d intended to purchase coke with later on that evening (you guessed you’d be without a fix for a few days until your next paycheck, but that was a small price to pay for being a good samaritan, you decided. Besides, you really were supposed to be cutting back on the stuff…). Peeling three bills from the small, neatly folded stack, you tucked your wallet away and hurried over to where the commotion was brewing.  
“Excuse me, sir?” you screamed, maneuvering your body around several sweaty, limp figures who couldn’t seem to get the hint from your urgency to get out of the way. You held your arm up above your head, brandishing the cash like a flag as you approached the three men and their unfortunate victim. “You dropped this by the bar earlier.”  
You met the blond man’s gaze, his hooded eyes flashing from his assailants to you, dark shadows cast down his prominent cheekbones. He gave you a confused squint, and through the darkness, you widened your eyes as if to say just go with it.  
“Oh my god, thank you so much,” he breathed, his smooth voice thick with relief, tongue darting to wet his full pink lips as he turned to face the dealers again, arms still in a vice grip. “I told you I must’ve dropped it somewhere.”  
The drug dealer raised his thick brows and looked at you, mouth pressed into a thin frown. He almost seemed disappointed that he no longer had an excuse to kick someone’s ass. “Are you fucking with me?”  
You quivered as you looked him in the face, frightened by the prospect of facing the brunt of his wrath. “I- I’m serious. I saw it drop from his pocket but he couldn’t hear me when I called after him.”  
You didn’t dare break contact with the dealer, but from your peripheral you could see his two backups loosen their holds on the man’s arms. The dealer didn’t say another word, plucking the money from your fingertips and tucking it away in his jacket.  
“You got lucky tonight, fuck face,” he spat as he moved to tower over the trembling man, waving his goons over before disappearing with them into the crowd.  
When you were certain the two of you were alone, you gave the blond man a small grin. “That was supposed to be my coke money.”  
He chuckled weakly, revealing a row of perfectly even, pearl white teeth, lifting one hand to rub the back of his neck. He still appeared to be shaken up, and you couldn’t blame him. “I don’t know how to thank you.”  
“Well, I’d say you could start by buying me a drink, but obviously you don’t have the money for that.”  
He shook his head, a shameful expression painting his features. It was dark, but you could still tell that the man had the combined features of a goddamn Greek god. “You wanna come outside with me for a smoke? God knows I need it right now.”  
You nodded, knowing logically that you probably shouldn’t go off into the night with a random man you’d only just met, but then again, you did it all the time and you were still going strong.  
“You can bum as many from me as you want,” he said, you having to strain your ears to hear him over the blaring music. “Fuck it, you can even have the whole damn pack if you want.”  
You smiled, grabbing onto the bicep of his toned arm and following him to the glowing exit sign.

//

The area behind the club was sketchy, with only a few other questionable characters lingering nearby in the shadows, but you felt almost safe in the presence of the fit blonde; he’d stuck a cigarette between your lips the second you’d gotten outside (okay, that was hot, you had to admit), leaning up against the brick wall as he reached into his back pocket to retrieve a purple lighter.  
“So what’s your name?” he mumbled, lighting your cigarette and then his.  
You watched the embers of his cigarette illuminate in the clear blue pools of his eyes, bringing yours away from your lips between two fingers. “I’m (y/n). And who exactly are you?”  
“My name’s Xavier. As for who I am, I definitely couldn’t tell you.” His lips curved up a little at the corners, smooth and pink, and you couldn’t help but admire them for a fleeting moment.  
“So what was that all about? Back in the club?”  
He shook his head with a disgusted scoff, looking down to his immaculately groomed hands to avoid meeting your gaze. “I tried something really stupid with a drug dealer. I, uh, have a little bit of a problem, I guess.”  
You patted his toned arm, the warmth of his skin intoxicating in contrast with the mild night air. “I’m pretty sure everyone at this club has a ‘little bit of a problem’ with drugs, babe. Just don’t be stupid about it.”  
“I could’ve gotten killed. Or worse. I could’ve had my face totally fucked up.” he said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. He tilted his head back, allowing a plume of milky gray smoke to escape his lips and curl upwards towards the navy sky. It would certainly have been a shame if anything were to have happened to that beautiful face of his, you thought. “I didn’t deserve what you did for me.”  
“Please. I couldn’t just stand there and watch some poor guy get beaten to a bloody pulp without doing anything to stop it. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.”  
“I’ll pay you back as soon as I have the money, I promise. I have like ten dollars on me now, but I sort of need it for my cab ride home. My roomie’s going home with some chick, I think.” You could tell that he was nervous, almost as though he was worried you’d turn on him at any moment, and you flashed him an understanding smile.  
“Take your time. I know how hard things can be.”  
His stiff expression softened at this, and in a second’s flicker, you saw something in his pale eyes shift.  
“You’re a saint, seriously,” Xavier said, seeming to tower above you as he leaned in closer, neck craned to better meet your level. He smelled nice, like smoke and cologne, breath hot and rich with liquor. You licked your lips.  
“Far from it,” you laughed, instantly on high alert, knowing that sleepy look in his drooping eyes all too well. He was mere inches from you now, letting out shallow breaths as he reached to tuck a stand of (h/c) hair behind your shoulder. You’d been through enough guys to know exactly where this was going, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t into it.  
“So what you’re saying is-“ his tongue darted out to wet his lips, speaking into your ear so closely that you felt a shiver roll up the expanse of your spine. “-you’re more of a bad girl, then?”  
You bit your lip, deciding to make him work a bit before giving him what he was after. “I just like to have fun.”  
“Well, I’ve been told that I’m a very good time.” He pressed his lips lightly to your neck, the smallest fragment of a kiss, before pulling away with a smirk.  
“Oh, I’m sure you are,” you said, eyes falling down to the prominent bulge in the front of his white jeans for a fraction of a second. God damn, he looked big. “Maybe I’ll let you show me sometime.”  
“How ‘bout tonight?” He looked so delicious, so magazine-cover perfect, that you couldn’t possibly fathom telling him no. So maybe he was a broke druggie who tried pulling fast ones on drug dealers; who cared? the same could probably be said about you (minus the ‘pulling fast ones’ part- you were reckless, but you didn’t have a death wish). “I have a couple ideas on how to properly thank you for what you did tonight.”  
“Is that so?” You cocked your head to one side, flicking cigarette ash to the asphalt. The muscles in his smooth arms rippled subtly as he moved to do the same, nearly making you salivate like a goddamn dog. When was the last time a guy had gotten you worked up like this? “Well, what are you waiting for? I don’t have all night.”  
You made a mental note to give your best friend a ring once you arrived at his apartment; you doubted you’d be back home before she was.

//

The cab ride back to Xavier’s place was mostly quiet, mainly due to the fact that the two of you spent damn near the entirety of it tangled into one another; he pushed his hands up underneath your tight top as your lips sloppily melded with his, the crackling pop track that played through the stereo acting as the night’s soundtrack. The windows were dotted with sporadic drops of rain, which had begun to fall only seconds after getting inside the car, now encompassed by the rumbling of warm summer thunder.  
“Can’t wait to fuck you when we get back,” he murmured against your jaw, soft lips tenderly grazing your skin. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”  
You reached down and gripped his nearly erect cock through his pants, slowly massaging it with your palm as you moved to attach your mouth back to his. He was a fantastic kisser, maybe even the best you’d ever encountered, and you had a sneaking suspicion, by the way his hands grazed your skin with a lewd, possessive sort of grace, that he’d be even better in the bedroom. One large hand closed around your breast and you moaned into the vodka-flavored escape of his mouth, moving your own hands to wander underneath his shirt and over the expanse of his firm stomach.  
“You’re so sexy,” he hummed, voice hoarse, before taking your lower lip between pearly teeth and tugging it towards him. “Most rad girl I’ve taken home in a long time.”  
You poised an eyebrow, pulling back to glare at him. “Oh yeah? I take it you bring home a lot of girls, then?”  
His lips twisted into a devious smirk, trailing his fingers slowly up and down your upper arm. “Looks like the princess is jealous.”  
Princess. You knew the nickname had been meant to tease you, but for some indecipherable reason it struck you hard between the thighs. “I would just prefer not to hear about all the girls you’ve fucked before me.”  
He chuckled, pulling you back in by your hips. “I promise you I’m not a man whore.”  
You rolled your eyes, still allowing him to press several kisses down your neck and over your chest, which was almost completely exposed save for a tiny black tank top. He slipped his hand back up under your top, thumb crazing over your peaked nipple, and you let out a stifled sigh.  
Here you were again, engaging in risky behavior as your therapist had put it (back when you’d actually gone to see one) by going home with some random dude with a drug problem. Still, you couldn’t help but feel like this man was, somehow, different from all the other creeps you’d met at the clubs, but maybe you were just being naive. Either way, it was too late to go back now; if he had mouth herpes or something of the like, you’d already caught it at this point- now you just had to trust that he wouldn’t kidnap or murder you.  
In a matter of seconds you were kissing him again, his toughened fingertips grazing the inner part of your thighs, tracing up to the padded area between your thigh and hip and squeezing it hard. You groaned, draping one arm over his shoulder so you could bring his head in closer to you, fingers threading through his bleached hair; you found your mind sifting through question after question about this enigmatic man, realizing that, unlike all the other times you’d gone home with a stranger, you wanted so badly to know more.  
You wondered what he did during the day, wondered if he was anything at all like you. You thought he looked good enough to be a model, maybe, but then you’d assume a model would be able to dish out 60 measly dollars on drugs. Perhaps he’d just recently come to California to pursue some kind of dream: a musician, maybe, or an actor- he did strike you as the type, and, seeing that you lived in Los Angeles, you knew quite a few people who fit that particular bill.  
As the car began to slow, the headlights cast light over a one story, run-down looking apartment complex; the driver twisted around in his seat to face you, and you suddenly felt yourself become very flustered, hastily sliding off of Xavier’s lap and onto the empty space beside him.  
“This the place?” he asked gruffly, disinterested, and you presumed that he’d grown jaded to drunken couples on their way to one-night stands in his backseat. In a way, his demeanor comforted you.  
“Yeah, this is it,” Xavier said, fishing several crumpled one-dollar bills from his back pocket and thrusting the pile into the driver’s open hand. “C’mon, babe.”  
He shot you a playful wink before opening the car door, grabbing your hand as he scooted his body over and stepped out into the night air. It was still drizzling outside, the raindrops cool on your hot skin, warmed by the adrenaline coursing rapidly through your veins and, of course, the liquor.  
“Wish I had somewhere nicer to bring you back to, but unfortunately this is the best I can afford for now,” he said breathlessly, bringing out his apartment key as he led you towards one of the many identical doors that lined the old building; you looked over your shoulder, realizing now that the two of you were completely alone.  
Fumbling with the lock, there were several seconds of silence- save for the soft jingling of Xavier’s keys- before the door was pushed open. The room was dark, and you stalled for a moment beside Xavier, glancing up at him hesitantly.  
“After you,” you said.  
Xavier nodded and stepped inside, his hand moving blindly against the innermost wall until there was a soft hum and a sudden burst of yellowed light; the place was tiny, with a small open kitchenette area that led into a makeshift living room, comprised only of a stained, camel colored couch and an ancient-looking television on the floor in front of it. Past that was a narrow hallway, which you assumed led to Xavier’s bedroom.  
It only took you a brief moment to take the entire place in, being that it was so dingy, but you had to admit it wasn’t much worse than your own apartment. That was the cost of being young and poor in LA, you supposed.  
Noticing your wandering eyes, Xavier snorted. “Told you it was shitty.”  
You shrugged, unfazed. “I’m here for you, not your apartment.”  
He breathed out, locking the door behind him as he closed it, and you found yourself ambling towards the kitchen, swaying your hips back and forth in a manner you hoped was seductive. On the counter beside the sink was a large, half-full bottle of vodka, which you picked up and leveled in your hands.  
“So you wanna have a party, huh?” Xavier muttered, and all at once he was pressed up behind you, his lips against your neck and hands settled on your sides. His close proximity was enough to dust your skin with goosebumps, wetting your lips with your tongue and offering a weak nod. “I’ll show you a party.”

// 

It only took a few more shots of cheap liquor before you were in Xavier’s bed, the stereo on his desk blasting tracks you couldn’t remember ever being fond of, but somehow didn’t mind much anymore. You laid back amongst the several colorful pillows that decorated the top of his rickety bed, watching as he disrobed himself at the foot, article by pastel article; in the process of making your way to the bedroom, you’d managed to strip down to only your bra and dampened panties, your now-bare legs shifting from side to side in anticipation.  
“Rad bod,” you remarked as he yanked off his shirt and tossed it haphazardly over his shoulder, revealing his sculpted torso and narrow, but sturdy, hips. “You must work out a ton.”  
“Jazzercize,” he replied, unbuttoning his form fitting jeans and working them down his thighs. “My second favorite way of staying in shape.”  
You quirked a brow, the fragments of a smile ghosting your mouth, “Oh? And what’s the first?”  
Now clad only in tight white briefs that left little to the imagination, he got onto the bed, his shoulders rippling deliciously as he crawled towards you. “I’ll let you take a guess.”  
You drummed your chin and screwed your face up in feigned thought. “The elliptical?”  
“Hmm. Close.” He was on top of you now, using one arm to prop himself up so he could look down at you, his gaze only breaking from yours to momentarily sweep over your prominent cleavage, which steadily rose and fell beneath him. “I’ll give you a hint-“ he lowered himself to speak into your ear- “It involves two people.”  
You hummed, reaching between his legs to palm at the hard protrusion in the front of his underwear. This resulted in a stifled hiss from the blonde, and, satisfied, your lips curled upwards at the corners. “I’m lost. I think you’re gonna have to show me.”  
“Okay,” he agreed slowly, easing his weight onto one side so he could use both hands to maneuver your bra straps down your shoulders. “But I gotta warn you, keeping up with me isn’t gonna be easy. I’ve been known to give quite the workout.”  
He freed your tits from the silk cups that cradled them, wasting no time before groping the supple skin with enough force that it stung. He was getting a bit cocky for your liking, and you racked your brain for a rebuttal, all the while letting out a soft moan in response to his eager touch. Taking advantage of the fact that he was no longer on top of you, you used both hands to push him onto his back, quickly straddling him so you were looking over him instead.  
There, you thought contentedly, running your fingers through your tousled hair. That’s better.  
“I think you’re the one who’s gonna be struggling to keep up, babe,” you said, twisting your arms behind your back to unhook your bra and tossing the garment onto the floor once you’d freed yourself of it entirely.  
“Feisty,” he said with a toothy grin, bringing both large hands to your ass and giving it a hard squeeze on either side. “I like it.”  
You rolled your eyes, moving back so your clothed crotch was lined up with his, teeth sinking harshly into your lower lip as you used his erection to make friction on your clit. At this, he sucked in a sharp breath, and you used this reaction as incentive to begin grinding yourself even harder against him.  
“You feel so big,” you praised between soft pants, taking to slithering your body down between his parted thighs, knowing you’d soak through your panties completely if you didn’t ease up what you were doing. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, you pulled the elastic down a teasing few inches, exposing the beginning of his neatly groomed pelvis. “Let’s find out if I’m right.”  
You finished removing his boxers, a massive erection springing forward the minute you freed it from its hold. Fuck. It was the dick of your dreams— long and thick and flushed, sporting winding veins along its gently curved circumference, the fat, leaking head promising hours of g-spot stimulation that you hadn’t even realized you’d been so desperately craving. Instantly your mouth watered at the sight, jaw unhinging in unwavering awe; you dared not look up at his face, knowing it would no doubt be plastered with an infuriating smugness at having witnessed your amazement.  
Instead of saying anything, you brought your palm under your chin and spat into it, using the makeshift lube to begin pumping his length up and down. He grunted softly and bucked his hips up into your hand, and finally you allowed yourself a momentary peek at his face- his hooded eyes had fluttered half-shut, bitten red lips curled into a dazed, lust-filled smirk. He looked beautiful, the dim light of his bedroom casting shadows down beneath his prominent cheekbones, and you had no choice but to take a moment to admire him.  
“Fuck, babe,” Xavier rasped, taking your hair in his hand and giving it a light tug. You quickened the speed of your fist around his shaft, reveling in the silky smooth feeling of his hot skin as you moved it up and down. He grunted, earring dangling wildly as his lead lolled back, and you shifted forward to administer a dainty lick to the tip of his cock.  
Taking careful note of his body’s responses to your touch, you swirled your tongue slow and steady over his slit, licking up the pearly bead that had settled there; you continued to jerk him at a lazy pace, doe eyes blinking innocently as you took him further into your mouth, making sure not to touch the delicate skin with your teeth.  
He grunted, applying a firm- but not too firm- push to the back of your head; you took the hint, adjusting your spit-slick hand to cup his balls, using a featherlight touch to massage them as you swallowed his cock deeper into your mouth.  
“F-fuck, (y/n), that’s it,” Xavier sighed, before abruptly pulling you up off of him. You knit your brows, scalp stinging from the harshness of his grip, but he only beckoned you up with a pat to his chest. “Get your pretty ass up here.”  
You raised your brows, but it didn’t take too long for it to dawn on you what he had planned. Running your tongue across your upper lip, you shed yourself of your panties and readjusted so you were straddling his chest backwards, back arched so he could get a good view of the arousal that coated your pussy. At this new view, he let out a noise that sounded akin to some sort of animalistic growl, and roughly he took you by either thigh and yanked you up closer to his face, the brashness of his actions causing you to let out a high-pitched squeal.  
You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock once again just as he landed a slap to your ass with his calloused palm; you gasped against his cock, taking more of him into your mouth until you were sputtering, his hands pulling apart your cheeks to better expose your glistening cunt.  
“So pretty,” he cooed, and you flushed at having been granted his approval, his cock making contact with the back of your throat with each low dip of your head. You heard him inhale, and then, without warning, he plunged two fingers into your heat; you cried out, voice muffled what with your mouth being so impossibly full, tears of pleasure springing to your eyes when he curled the long digits inside of you and pressed them hard on your spongey inner walls.  
He knows what he’s doing, that’s for sure.  
It wasn’t easy to continue sucking his cock, but you were determined to uphold your end of the bargain even as he brought you closer and closer to your own orgasm. You gagged on his massive length with each thrust of his fingers into your silky wetness, the small bedroom overflowing with synthesized cords and the lewd sounds of sex.  
There was a vulgar, wet noise as Xavier pulled his fingers from you, letting you whimper for a moment before surprising you with harsh, unexpected circles on your clit. Your eyelids fluttered, and had your mouth not been full of cock, you probably would’ve let out a long, slurred string of near-incoherent expletives; he didn’t allow you any time to grow accustomed with the newfound stimulation, though, instead adding even more as he craned his neck to start lapping sloppily at your entrance.  
Sucking in air like a starved animal, you drew back from him, a gleaming string of spit stretching between your swollen lips and the flushed head of his cock. Weakly, you took hold of his cock with one limp hand, no longer composed enough to work at him with your mouth; he didn’t seem to mind- or even notice- the change, wordlessly persisting the frenzied assault on your clit with his fingertips, tongue delving in and out of your opening, drinking from you greedily.  
You felt your stomach tighten, that well-known dip in your gut imposing itself upon you- it was a sensation that you only ever encountered when you were alone in your bed. God, you were glad you’d decided to help this guy out; the rewards had turned out to have heavily outweighed any risks you’d taken with him.  
“I’m- Xavier, gonna cum,” you mumbled, hardly aware of whether or not your voice was even audible, legs trembling with feeble, paper-like delicacy. “Gonna- fuck.”  
Your orgasm was intense and seemed to linger far longer than you’d have anticipated; it came in brilliant bursts like fireworks, each wave of ecstasy even more potent than the last.  
When you came down from your high, your limbs like jelly, you rest a sweaty cheek on his lower stomach while you recuperated.  
“Told you I’d work you out,” he said, punctuating his words with a playful smack to your ass. “So what do you say? You too tired to ride my cock?”  
You shook your head, turning yourself around with a defiant confidence, looking him dead in the eyes as you gripped his thick cock between your legs and lined it up with your slick entrance.  
“Nah,” you said coolly, trying your best to lower yourself onto his enormous cock without giving him too much of a reaction. This task proved more difficult than expected, your mouth falling open as his girth stretched you wide enough that you thought you might burst with the fullness; once he was fully seated inside of you, you took in a breath, shifting yourself back and forth to try and get used to such an immense intrusion. “Fuck.”  
“What’re you waiting for, baby?” Xavier said, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and slapping your ass again with a satisfying clap. You hated that you were letting him get so smug, but how could you not let your appreciation show? This had to be the best sex you’d ever had, and you were sure he knew it.  
Steadily, you eased into riding him, settling your hands on your own rounded breasts as your rocking hips gained traction little by little. It was almost too much, but as the slight pain of your narrow walls being stretched blended into the pleasure of his cock making perfect contact with that delicious spot inside of you, you were able to bring yourself to a fervent rhythm.  
“So fucking tight,” he hissed through grit teeth, fingers digging into your plush thighs with bruising adamance. Your head rolled back towards the ceiling, your pussy wet enough now that you could start bouncing on his length. “You feel so fucking good.”  
His hoarse affirmations only served in arousing you further, and soon your abdomen was tightening just as it had earlier, one hand dropping from your tits to play idly with your overstimulated clit.  
“Fuck, baby, keep splitting that pussy open on my big cock,” he drawled mindlessly, strengthening his iron grip on your thighs; you could tell that he was close from his breathless tone of voice, encouraging you to move faster despite the exhaustion creeping up on you. “C’mon, (y/n), make me cum.”  
You kept going, rolling your clit between two fingertips, shallow breaths escaping your throat with every decadent roll of your hips. Below you, Xavier’s defined jaw was clenched and tight, his lips glossy with saliva and forehead glowing with sweat, and you braced yourself for what you knew was only moments away; then, as if on cue, his cock twitched inside you, a spurt of warm cum filling you up and painting your walls.  
That feeling alone would’ve been sufficient to push you over the edge, but paired with the frantic rubbing of your clit, your second climax hit you twice as fast, and together, you and Xavier rode out your orgasms in sync.  
Once you’d recovered, you laid down next to him, snuggling your face into the pine-scented crook of his neck as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.  
“Damn, babe,” Xavier chuckled, drumming his fingers softly against your skin. “You really gave me a run for my money there.”  
“Oh, did I?” You bat your lashes up at him, placing your palm down flat on his chest and outlining shapes on his skin with your fingernails. “You didn’t do too bad yourself.”  
“I’ll be sure to add your testimony to my personal list of raving reviews,” he grinned, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your matted hair. For a reason you couldn’t explain, this gesture caused something to flutter in the pit of your stomach.  
“I’m sure you will,” you said, cutting your eyes at him exaggeratedly.  
He wrinkled his nose, sticking his tongue out at you like a petulant child, and you giggled like a schoolgirl with a playground crush.  
As you gradually drifted to sleep in the arms of a stranger, the blaring pop music lulling you into welcomed darkness, a strange feeling came across you; you couldn’t be sure how, but you knew, deep in your gut, that this was going to be far more than just a one-night stand.


End file.
